


Feeling bad as me

by Nightlist



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arson, Blood, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Corpses, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Decapitation, Face-Fucking, Gore, Guro, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Jerome Valeska Needs A Hug, M/M, Nausea, Necrophilia, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Psychological Horror, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Relationships, but he does not get one, but like in reverse, dont eat it, i know these are some specific ass tags but i want people to be Warned okay, like please don’t eat the dove, really dead, the dove is dead, this is my first smut fic btw, why can’t i just write tame shit like everyone else?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightlist/pseuds/Nightlist
Summary: Title is from Ballad of Worms by Cage, so if the tags weren’t enough for ya, that song is another one
Relationships: Theo Galavan/Jerome Valeska
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Feeling bad as me

**Author's Note:**

> this is a very dark story, it’s not for the faint of heart or the strong of heart. viewer discretion is highly advised

Jerome grinned triumphantly, as he stared down at the body laying on the floor. The corpse laying on the floor. 

“You are such a piece of shit.” He laughed, his grin widening. “But hey, so am i right? That’s why you broke me out and then. Ya know. Killed me.”

As corpses tended to not speak, Theo gave no response. 

“And then you couldn’t even let me come back first! I mean come  on .” While he talked, Jerome surveyed the row of knives laid on his bed, idly running his fingers over them. 

He stopped at the last one and picked it up, throwing it in the air. 

“This one’ll do nicely, don’t ya think?” He caught the knife and glanced back at Theo’s pale face, nodding to himself. “That it will.”

Jerome skips over to sit by Theo’s head, staring into his dull eyes and seeing his own face reflected in them. He trails the knife over Theo’s face, cutting lines into his skin. He carves in a heart on Theo’s cheek. Before stabbing it into his neck. The same spot he stabbed Jerome. 

His grin was more of a snarl now. 

“I fucking hate you.” He raised the knife up, stabbing it down again. And again. And again. There wasn’t much blood, which was disappointing, but Theo was already dead. What blood there was was dark as it sluggishly oozed out of the cuts. 

Jerome kept ramming the knife into Theo’s neck, all over it, until there were just strings of flesh and muscle keeping it connected.

By now, even the sluggish blood had spattered everywhere. It was horrific. Jerome could see the scratches on Theo’s spine where his knife had glanced it. The stench of death was everywhere. 

Jerome didn’t think he’d ever been more turned on in his life. 

The head dangled back grotesquely, blood slowly dripping from its neck. Jerome gazed at it, fascinated. His eyes raked over Theo’s head, taking in what he had done. 

Blood slowly leaked out of Theo’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” Jerome said quietly. It was gorgeous. Theo was gorgeous, even pale and purple with his head nearly gone and his face cut up. He was still gorgeous. He still made Jerome’s heart flutter and his blood rush downwards. 

He whimpered, his clothes felt too hot, he wanted. He wanted Theo. He felt so lonely without him. 

A drop of blood hit the floor. 

Jerome rocked his hips into Theo’s and groaned at the much needed friction. His fingers found the top of shirt and he slowly unbuttoned it, staring hotly into Theo’s blank eyes and let the memories wash over him. 

Jerome, jerking off to the praise he got the night after the police station. 

Theo, telling Jerome it was okay because Theo  loved  him and love couldn’t be bad. 

Theo’s knife in Jerome’s neck. 

Jerome’s face, shoved into the mattress with Theo’s cock in his ass. 

It hurt. But it felt so good. Because Theo was making him hurt and Jerome was so desperate to make Theo happy. He’d do anything. He’d cut his own heart out if Theo wanted him too. 

Theo called him good. Jerome was good. Lila wasn’t there to call him bad. 

Jerome was Theo’s. 

Jerome was good for Theo. 

Jerome smiled for Theo, even with tears in his eyes and fresh cuts on his back. Jerome didn’t complain. He gave everything to Theo. Because he loved Theo. And love was good. Jerome was good. 

Jerome wanted more. He’d given Theo everything, he wanted to  take. His eyes caught on Theo’s neck. It’s was torn up, dead muscle and skin and sinew mixed up together. 

His cock twitched. 

Jerome knew what to take.

* * *

He felt almost like he was going to vomit as he slid inside. It was cold and wet and sticky. Jerome’s stomach twisted and he felt nauseous and he couldn’t imagine wanting anything else. 

He went slow, savoring the sight and the feeling of his cock disappearing into Theo’s throat. It felt like hours until he hit the roof of Theo’s mouth, the sensation causing him to buck forward and whine, his sensitive head rubbing against the back of Theo’s tongue. 

His hands shook as he tilted Theo’s head back, slipping two fingers into Theo’s mouth. Congealed blood and saliva scraped against them and teeth bit into them as he pulled Theo’s jaw down. 

“Oh god,” Jerome half sobbed, half moaned, having to yank his hand back and cover his mouth before he actually threw up. He could see the head of his dick pressed against the roof of Theo’s mouth. 

This shouldn’t feel good . 

But it did. And despite the horror, the nausea, the tears running down his face, Jerome didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. He fucked into Theo’s esophagus, his dick hitting the curve of Theo’s throat over and over again. 

He bit into the hand still over his mouth and threw his head back with a groan.  The wheels are turning,  he thought. A broken laugh tore out of his throat as his teeth broke the skin. Blood slowly trickled into his mouth, his hips grinding forward at the salty, metallic taste.

Jerome felt the heat coiling in his stomach, his thrusts rapidly speeding. His hand squeezed what was left of Theo’s throat around his cock, a whine escaping his lips at the added tightness. 

“Fuck!” His voice broke as came, slamming his hips against Theo’s torn up throat. The nausea rose again, mixing with the pleasure until he wasn’t sure what was what. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore. So he did the only thing he could. He laughed. 

That stupid fucking laugh tore out of his chest, it felt like he was choking on barbed wire. 

Jerome fell back, his head connecting with the wood floor with a dull thud. He didn’t bother to get up, take a shower, or even wipe the tears of his face. He wasn’t sure if he laid there for minutes or days.

* * *

He ran a hand through his hair, casually glancing around him. There wasn’t anyone he could see, although Jerome didn’t really care. He was already a known serial killer. 

He dropped his hand with a sigh as he flicked open the lighted. He had managed to find a place in the Narrows so run down that only the desperate and dying would stay there. The house was rotting, with walls collapsed and holes everywhere. No place to live, but it had served Jerome’s purpose well enough. 

With a final glare towards where he had left the body, Jerome threw the lighter. The punctured gasoline tank caught fire easily, and the trail would lead the flames right to the left over carnage. Even if the house didn’t completely burn, Theo’s corpse would. 

Jerome sat, and watched the fire roar. Maybe he would let it take him too. 

**Author's Note:**

> well, if writing this won’t get me sent to hell, then the reference in this will
> 
> comment how this fic has ruined your perception of me forever lmao


End file.
